An Unexpected Return
by pygmymeese
Summary: When Alex finds himself back at Brookland ten years after graduating, he discovers that his name has yet to be forgotten. New students and old teachers alike just can't imagine a successful, respectable Alex Rider.
1. Chapter 1

**An Unexpected Return**

_When Alex finds himself back at Brookland ten years after graduating, he discovers that his name has yet to be forgotten. Oh dear. New students and old teachers alike might just have trouble wrapping their minds around the idea of a respectable Alex Rider, age twenty-seven, and obviously not a gang member or drug addict__._

**Disclaimer**: I don't really need to say I don't own Alex Rider do I? Because I don't. In case you were wondering. Which you probably weren't. Since Anthony Horowitz isn't a teenage girl (and I am). In case you were wondering. Again.

* * *

The building wasn't unusual in any way. With red bricks, three stories, and bushes and trees sprawled across the grounds, the school was absolutely nondescript. There was nothing there that could bring anyone's attention to it. Unless that anyone happened to be Alex Rider, MI6 field agent extraordinaire.

On this particular day, Alex had the _esteemed_ _privilege_ of paying back a favor to one Jason Chase, codename Snake, by picking up his daughter Kathryn, and taking her to a doctor's appointment. By some sadistic twist of fate, Kathryn's school happened to be Alex's old school and current nightmare.

Brookland.

And so Alex found himself in Brookland's parking lot, head pressed against the steering wheel. _Ten years I've avoided this place! And_ _now's when I finally have to go back? Thanks, Snake. You're a _great _pal._ Taking a deep breath, Alex muttered a prayer to whoever the hell was listening up there, stepped out of his car, and strode into the building.

He was dressed in the usual MI6 spy chic: black slacks, white dress shirt, black suit coat, skinny black tie. The only things that personalized the look were Alex's unruly dirty blonde hair (relatively unchanged since his teenage years), and the small diamond stud in his left ear.

Alex passed lines of dented grey lockers still pushed against both walls of the hallway. The faint drones of lecturing teachers mingled with his echoing footsteps as Alex passed their open doorways. He chuckled. _Nothing has changed...__ I can't tell if that's a good or a bad thing._ Reaching the door of the office, Alex glanced at the motivational posters still decorating the wall. One proclaimed in dulled neon colors, "Thirty years from now, it won't matter what shoes you wore, how your hair looked, or the jeans you bought. What will matter is what you learned and how you used it!" _Does learning how to stop worldwide terrorist agencies and conspiracy plots count? I've used _that_ a lot. Actually, that would be a fun class to teach. Ha, Blunt would probably love having me raise a new generation of Alex Riders. _His attention was torn from the poster with the clicking of heels.

"Hello, may I help you with something?" Mrs. Bedfordshire plopped a heap of papers onto her desk. She turned to Alex, tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear.

"I'm here to pick up Kathryn Chase for a doctor's appointment."

"Let me check what room she's in." Mrs. Bedfordshire tilted her head as a puzzled look appeared on her face, then turned to the computer. Suddenly, her head rose, eyes locking on Alex's. "Alex Rider!"

As tempted as Alex was to deny his identity and insist he was Ben Daniels, he gathered his courage and nodded his head. "Hello, Mrs. Bedfordshire," Alex said quietly.

"Alex, it's been so long! How are you? How's Jack? Are your sicknesses any better?" Question after question spewed from Mrs. Bedfordshire's mouth. She radiated motherly concern.

"I'm alright, Jack's off married in America, and my immune system seemed to repair itself by the time I finished my GSCE's. How did you figure out who I am?"

"Your name's on the list of approved guardians for Kathryn and you look the same as you did when you were here. Plus, you made quite an impression back then." Alex snorted at the understatement. "In fact, you're a bit of an urban legend at Brookland now. With those sicknesses, and you disappearing all the time…" Her voice trailed off at the unhappy thoughts. Mrs. Bedfordshire had always been worried about Alex's welfare back then. "Anyway, it's great to see you're doing well," smiled Mrs. Bedfordshire.

"Thanks. Can you tell me what room Kathryn is in?" Alex prompted the wistful secretary.

"Oh, right. Room 202, the same old science wing as ever. Actually, I think you can get her yourself. I've got loads of work to complete." She gestured to the stack of papers. "Just don't forget to come back here to sign her out." With that, Mrs. Bedfordshire shooed a harried Alex out of her office.

* * *

_Room 210, 208, 206- Mrs. Gordon's still teaching physics, then? That crazy old bat, _thought Alex fondly, steps slowing as he noticed the little things that hadn't changed since he left… and the things that reminded him of what he missed, thanks to his corrupted childhood. He shuffled along, hands secure in his pockets, nostalgia wrapped around his mind. _Here we are, 202._ Alex peered through the door's window. At the head of the class, wearing safety goggles and a voluminous white lab coat, stood Alex's old chemistry teacher, Dr. Haynes. Renowned through the school as one of the best teachers, Haynes was enthusiastic, funny, and actually taught well. He was in the middle of an experiment.

"…the acetic acid reacts with the sodium bicarbonate, ultimately resulting in three products, and a mountain of fizzy explosions for you guys.

"So, you've seen the experiment; you have the materials at your lab stations. By the end of the hour I want you to answer all of the questions in your packet. Don't forget to balance out the equation and determine the products and type of reaction you're creating before solving any of the calculations."

Alex unobtrusively walked through the door, making a beeline towards Dr. Haynes. "Hi, Mrs. Bedfordshire sent me up to collect Kathryn Chase for a doctor's appointment."

"Of course, of course," sang out Haynes. "Ms. Kathryn, up to the front, please. And grab your stuff."

Blue eyes locked onto the figure beside Dr. Haynes and a grin slipped onto Kathryn's face. Dumping her supplies pell-mell into her bookbag, she walked calmly down the aisle, only to lose all restraint as she hugged Alex tightly. A small lopsided smile appeared on Alex's face as he returned the hug.

"Hi, Uncle Cub! When'd you get back?" Kathryn had pulled back, attempting to tame her brunette hair into order. She straightened her light blue skirt and simple white blouse. At 5'10", Alex stood a good half foot taller than her.

"Calm down, kid. I got back a day ago. Your dad somehow roped me into taking you to the doctor's. Can't believe I'm forced to spend the day with a munchkin like you," muttered Alex.

"Hey! I resent that," pouted the fifteen-year-old. At the sight of her amused Chemistry teacher, Kathryn turned to all business. "What homework do we have tonight?"

"Just finish the packet. Get measurements from your lab partner. And don't pull an Alex Rider on us; we don't want you getting sick, now would we?"

Alex's face froze. The only visible sign of his agitation was a slight twitch in his fingers, itching to drum against his leg. _You've got to be kidding me._ _I couldn't have been THAT much of a mystery. I thought Mrs. Bedfordshire was exaggerating! How the hell do they still remember my name?_

Alex said in a strained voice, "Well, we'd best be off, the doctor's appointment is wai-"

"Well, that's weird! Uncle Cub's real name is Alex Rider! What a coincidence," interrupted Kathryn, a snicker escaping from her lips. She had seen the reaction Dr. Haynes' comment had elicited from Alex and put the pieces together. The mindless speculation of whether the infamous Alex Rider of Brooklands legend was the same as her Uncle had proven to be true.

Dr. Haynes' eyebrows shot into his black hair, surprise etched into his features. He turned to face the so-called Alex Rider head on. Certainly the hair was the same (though, Haynes admitted, hair is something can change all too easily, his balding curls a prime example of the phenomenon), the football player's build with a few more inches added for good measure– and the eyes. They had intensified from the sullen, serious brown eyes Alex had at graduation to shadowed ones, sorrow hidden in their depths. A look not readily acquired. Haynes murmured, almost to himself, "It really is you." Louder, he continued, "Apparently someone has been doing well. I take it the sickness has been cured and you are able to live without crippling bouts of illness stopping your life every few weeks?"

"Something like that," sighed Alex. "But Kathryn-"

"Ah, yes, how do you know Kathyrn?" asked Haynes.

"I've worked with her father. Now, we really have to go."

"Wait a moment, Mr. Rider," Haynes cut-in indignantly– and loudly. The students were starting to stare at the enigmatic stranger in the classroom. "I would love to hear about what you've been up to for the past decade."

"It hasn't been exciting, Dr. Haynes."

"Says the man who passed his GSCEs with flying colors, despite barely showing up for class."

"Being ill gave me a lot of free time to study with."

"And scars. And a body fit for a professional athlete."

"Keeping in shape keeps the illness away."

"The scars?"

Alex paused. He was unsure of Haynes' ultimate goal.

"I happen to know Kathryn's father works for the military. SAS, in fact," informed Haynes.

"What are you suggesting, Dr. Haynes?" Alex asked hesitantly.

"Nothing, I'm merely stating a series of facts. You forget what a fascinating student you were, at least when you bothered to show up," grinned Haynes. Alex was quite the conundrum. "Now, I believe that my students have spent enough time ogling at the renowned Brooklands legend. Out you go. Feel free to come visit whenever you want. Except on Thursdays. Thursdays never work."

Alex and Kathryn (and a not-so-discreet class of chemistry students) stood gawking at the teacher. If anything could be said of Haynes, it would be that he was a strange, strange man.

"Out!"

Alex skedaddled, Kathryn hastily following in his wake. As they departed, they heard the faint shout, "What, have you all finished the experiment already? Then who would like to volunteer to write their calculations on the board? Yes, that's what I presumed."

There was no way Alex couldn't come back.

As long as it wasn't on a Thursday.

* * *

_Author's note time. Please review! I write so that I can improve, but unless I get reviews, I won't know how to get better and actually make my stories fabulous. Nice, constructive criticism would be most appreciated (though I'm really not all that picky). I'm going to continue this, but I only have vague ideas as to what will happen.__ Hope you enjoyed the first part, and tell me if you have any ideas, comments, questions, criticisms, witticisms, and/or limericks!_

_**NOTE (7-24-2011): **Proofreading edits.  
_

_**NOTE (4-6-2013):** Minor edits. Gosh, I wish I could change some of the less superficial stuff. *chuckles* Two years have certainly changed my perspective..._


	2. Chapter 2

**An Unexpected Return**

_When Alex finds himself back at Brookland ten years after graduation, he discovers that his name has yet to be forgotten. Oh dear. New students and old teachers alike might just have trouble wrapping their minds around the idea of a respectable Alex Rider, age twenty-seven, and not a gang member or a drug addict._

**Disclaimer:** Isn't owning people immoral and illegal, or something? Hmph! I do not condone it, as fictional as said people are. Let Anthony Horowitz keep his characters!_  
_

**Note: **_A__ HUGE thanks to _So1said _for her expert editing skills__! Do I hear a round of applause? Yes, I do. (...or I could be crazy. Meh. Either works.)_

* * *

Kathryn was distressed.

"I didn't _mean_ to, Uncle Cub! I thought it would be funny. And kinda cool." Kathryn frowned out the car window, miffed that her less-than-ingenious plan got her into trouble. It didn't take long for her self-pity to turn to self-righteousness.

"Anyway, if you had just told me you went to Brookland I wouldn't have had to figure it out myself and blab to the class that you're actually the kid that everyone still talks about ten years later and actually Haynes was acting kind of creepy when he figured it out which is really weird because he's definitely one of the best teachers at school like there was this one time that we were doing this experiment and we all thought it was going to be brutal because it was about limiting reactants and the worksheets involved the most complicated equations you'd ever see but when we got into class that day it was super cool because there were biscuits and marshmallows and chocolate at all of the lab stations and we got to ignore the whole 'don't eat anything when you do an experiment' rule which is frankly a stupid rule because who decides to eat something you make with chemicals at a laboratory during an experiment?"

As many skills as Alex had gained over the years, following the thoughts of teenage girls was not one of them. He muddled through the irrelevant ones.

"Kathryn," Alex started hesitantly, "you know that most of my past is classified. Anyway, you wouldn't be interested in most of it."

Unfortunately for Alex, he forgot that the excuse he had used for years had been proven just that – an excuse. After all, he _was_ the Alex Rider of Brookland infamy.

"Don't tell me that I wouldn't be interested in it. You're Alex Rider! Didn't you take out the entire science wing with a giant crane after setting fire to the principal's office? And then there are those rumours about drugs or something, which are obviously fake because you would never do that. Anyway, how is a past filled with stories like that not _interesting_?" argued Kathryn. She hesitated, though, after seeing her Uncle's reluctance. "I won't push if it's that… bad. But somehow, I don't think it was as bad as you remember it. Besides, it's the past. What do you think could possibly happen if you tell me some of it?" With that, Kathryn unbuckled her seat belt, opened the car door, and walked into the doctor's office.

_For a fifteen-year-old, her argument wasn't too shabby._ Alex slowly followed Kathryn into the building. _But- no. Not her, not here, not now. _

He stopped abruptly, hand hovering over the doorknob. _Wait. When did I crash a crane into the school?_

* * *

After Kathryn was pronounced healthy, Alex drove her back to Brookland. Kathryn's appointment didn't last as long, and Alex was a firm believer in taking every opportunity to learn. Of course, Alex had an ulterior motive– determining _Dr. Haynes' _ulterior motive.

It wasn't suspicious to Ms. Bedfordshire when Alex strolled by the main office in search of Dr. Haynes. She remembered all of the extra hours Alex had spent in the lab, scrambling to catch up with the rest of the Chemistry students. Nor was it suspicious to the other teachers that an old student visit the professor whom they suspected to be the only teacher who could have reformed the poor, delinquent Alex Rider.

Thus, Alex found himself staring at a wooden door, decorated with a simple, black nameplate that proclaimed "DR. BENJAMIN HAYNES" in stout, white letters. The sounds of rustling papers and furious scribbling escaped through the open crack in the door. Hesitantly, he reached up to knock on the door.

"Enter," bellowed a voice, followed by a grumpy mutter, "there's a reason the door's open."

Alex slipped into the small office, a soft click resounding as he shut the door. "Afternoon, Dr. Haynes."

Dr. Haynes looked up, twirling a red pen in his fingers. He sat back in his chair, long legs stretched beneath the desk, pleased with this development. "Alex! Back again so soon? It seems but a minute ago we were chatting so amicably."

Alex narrowed his eyes, scrutinising the man before him. Haynes certainly wasn't young. Laugh lines were creased by his green eyes, and his hair line had begun to recede. Haynes looked perfectly harmless, surrounded by his bookshelves and papers; this was clearly his natural habitat. Stripes of warm sunlight danced along the walls as he twisted his red pen between his fingers, a startling movement in an otherwise still room. The smile on his face had levelled out during Alex's scrutiny.

"Now," began Haynes, leaning forward onto the desk, "I believe I know the reason for your visit. And if I am right, and that it is not, in fact, for some long neglected bonding with an old teacher, then there are a number of ways this conversation could proceed. Personally, I'm suspecting it will most likely centre around a confrontation fuelled by contained anger, although the exact details are up to you. Perhaps a few wild gesticulations or_ ad hominem _abuse?"

A moment of silence. Then-

"_What _are you talking about?" Alex allowed an incredulous look to appear on his face. "Can you stop talking like– like _that_ for a minute and just explain what the hell you were doing back in that classroom?

"Now wait a moment, Alex. I deserve some credit. First, there was the fact that you had just walked in after ten years, looking _so_ ordinary. The older teachers had started to bet over when you'd be showing up in the news with a wanted label under your picture. Second, I know Kathryn. She's a good girl with good role models, including a hitherto faceless Uncle Cub whom she obviously adores. Third, I know you. At least, I did. You've changed, and I'd like to think for the better."

Alex stood, stone faced. Haynes sighed, searching for words.

"When you used to come back after your absences, you were…" He paused. "Quiet. Quiet and wary, and a little bit ferocious. It felt like you were held together by pieces of old tape. You could have exploded, or more likely imploded at any moment. But there was always something determined about you. Focused. Intelligent– and not the ponderous intelligence of philosophers. You were sharp, and always observing and analysing. When you spent time with me making up what you'd missed during your so-called sicknesses, I could see that potential. Had you spent as much time with the other teachers, they would have realized those rumours about your takeover of the local drug ring or other preposterous stories were false. But you didn't, so neither did they.

"Today, when Kathryn let your name slip, it was brilliant. You hold yourself so differently! The determination, focus, and intelligence are still there, but instead of being cowed by whatever you were going through, it seems that they've finally been allowed to shine. Most of all, you look... ready would be the best word. That tape that held you together has obviously been replaced with something stronger. Duct tape, perhaps. Or hot glue. If your metaphorical self is metal, we might even say you were soldered or welded. But that's beside the point; you were – _are –_ intriguing. Quite the puzzle. It's just now seeing you that some missing pieces have appeared."

Haynes smiled dreamily; Alex shifted awkwardly. They stared at each other, Alex, once again, trying to make sense of Haynes' words, and Haynes lost somewhere within his thoughts. Finally, Alex broke the silence.

"So you interrogated me loudly and clearly in front of your class because Kathryn's a good girl, my metaphorical self is metal, and you were curious?"

"Hmmm. I admit my logic was a bit flawed." Haynes tapped his finger against his mouth.

"_A bit?"_

"Oh, calm down, Mr. Rider," exasperatedly exclaimed Haynes, rolling his eyes. "What do you think going to happen because of this? Helicopters will surround the school in a frenzy as soldiers march up through the halls, seizing the students unfortunate enough to listen to our conversation and hauling them off to an undisclosed location for an undisclosed number of years?"

"Knowing my luck, yes," muttered Alex.

"What was that?"

"That doesn't change the facts the students–"

"Know absolutely nothing. They're _teenagers_; they don't know how to listen! The most they heard and understood of that conversation was that you're Alex Rider, you claimed to have done nothing important for the past decade, and you have ties to the military and Kathryn. That, coupled with the outrageous rumours floating about, they'll end up knowing for certain that you're such an influential man in the underworld that the military needed your help despite your less than legal activities in building your syndicate. I'll be curious, though, to see how they fit in Kathryn."

"And you? What have you ended up knowing?" The apprehensive feeling from that morning crept up on Alex again.

"As much as I wish for the opposite," sighed Haynes, "I know our government does not always behave in an honourable fashion. Anyone is fair game as long as the objective is completed. I can't do much with the knowledge beyond satisfying an old curiosity."

_Well,_ thought Alex_, that was not how I expecting things to turn out. _And it wasn't. He had gone in expecting a fight. After all, if there were any teacher Alex had respected at Brookland, it was Dr. Haynes. When few others would behave normally around him, or even speak to him at all, Haynes simply taught, expecting excellence from all. He had accepted Alex's desire to continue with his fractured studies, and did not hold him in contempt as the rumours grew uncontrollably. In a way, this morning's disrespect for Alex's desire for obscurity was a betrayal.

But…

He understood Haynes. As much as Alex would have liked to give in to his angry emotions, he felt in Haynes' debt. Ten years ago, to not be looked at like scum of the Earth or as a weapon, but rather as Alex Rider, was a gift. To be tacitly recognised as a human being that was worth something, especially after that recognition had been cruelly ripped away from him in the first place, had kept him grounded. Furthermore, it was one thing to recognise him with the knowledge of his secret, but different thing entirely to be trusted without knowing it. Haynes had given that trust to Alex and gave Alex faith that he didn't need to be stuck with reminders of his spy life in his every interaction and relationship.

"Thank you." Alex stared directly into Haynes' eyes, conveying respect for the eccentric teacher that had never really left.

Haynes smiled a welcome. "Does this mean I get to hear your daring escapades from around the world? Because that would be _extremely_ fascinating." Haynes stood up, caught within his own imagination, and began to act out his ponderings. "Sneaking around the world, toppling conspiracies left and right! One night in Beijing, the next in Rio de Janeiro, then back to London; one man, keeping the world safe from the shadows." Haynes whipped his arms through the air in Alex's direction; Alex being Alex, caught one and twisted it behind Haynes' back.

"That's not what happened, and no, you do not get to hear them," said Alex, a twinge of annoyance creeping into his voice. "This is the problem with those idiot spy movies and books. It's all romanticised rubbish! I _will_ tell you it sucks to be stuck in the jail cell of a megalomaniac or surrounded by thugs with a knife pressed against your back–"

The door opened and a boy walked in, saw Alex's unusual hold on the professor, replayed the last few seconds of conversation he heard, and slowly backed out, stammering, "Y– you look, umm, busy, so I'll ju– just, ah, come back tomorrow and get your help then." He swallowed audibly and bolted out of the office.

"Wait, Mr. Hamilton! James! " Haynes called out through the doorway, out of Alex's arm twist as soon as the boy had come into the room. A few curious students, filtering into the hall as school ended, connected the exasperated expression on Haynes' face with James' rushed scurrying, and followed the poor boy to hear what was sure to be juicy gossip.

Both men sighed. Neither were truly surprised at the incident; trouble like that just gravitated around Alex.

The bell rang, and Alex and Haynes shook hands.

"I believe that means I have to go pick up Kathryn," said Alex reluctantly.

"You are always welcome in my office, Mr. Rider. Do come and visit. I adore seeing old students of mine." With a final lift of his hand, Haynes sunk back into his chair, and Alex walked to the door feeling oddly light-hearted. As soon as he stepped out, however, he remembered how quickly rumours spread among teenagers.

Oh, bloody hell.

* * *

_Hello, hello! Once again, I plead for your reviews! And please be _critical_ about this story; this particular chapter caused me much stress in my attempts to use appropriate diction, a hole-less plot, and syntax that doesn't make people cringe__. Regardless__, I hope you enjoyed the second part, and tell me if you have any ideas, comments, questions, criticisms, witticisms, and/or limericks!_

_**NOTE (4-6-13)**: Minor edits._


	3. Chapter 3

**An Unexpected Return**

_When Alex finds himself back at Brookland ten years after graduation, he finds out his name has yet to be forgotten. Oh dear. New students and old teachers alike might just have trouble wrapping their minds around the idea of a respectable Alex Rider, age twenty-seven, and not a gang member or a drug addict._

**Disclaimer:** People on this website have such snarky disclaimers that mock our supposed stupidity... I love it! Unfortunately, I have fresh run out of sarcasm, so I will simply say Alex Rider belongs to Anthony Horowitz, and not me._  
_

**Note:**_ I've put _So1said _on a metaphorical pedestal for her tireless wading through my fragments, spiels, and diction crises in her editing efforts. You should, too. Gracias :)_**  
**

* * *

**Note Again: Andrew is Eagle.**_ (Otherwise, you will be confused at the end.)_**  
**

It was always the whispering that got on Alex's nerves. He could handle outright hostility just fine, but the vehemence that sprouted around him was too intangible for him to confront. Leaving Brookland was one of the happiest days of his life simply because he wouldn't have to deal with the sibilant gossip that followed him everywhere.

Having to hear it again was not conducive for a happy Alex.

However, as much as Alex wanted to punch something (or more longingly, somebody), he was better than that. So he put on his regular show of nonchalance, weaving through the throngs of gossiping teenagers. Passing by one group, Alex recognised the boy from earlier, James Hamilton, recounting the tale of the menacing stranger in Dr. Haynes' office. The boys who were eagerly devouring the story seemed familiar. _Where did I see th– Kathryn's_ _chemistry_ _class__,_ thought Alex._ That must be how it's spread so fast_. James turned in the middle of his expansive gesturing and caught Alex's glance. His eyes widened perceptively.

Alex stared contemplatively at James, as if making a note to himself, and nodded. James cowered. Alex smirked, slinking away as he heard whines from the other boys because of James' abrupt silence on the issue of the mysterious man. Smug with his intimidation, Alex decided he might try to search for Kathryn to spur her along instead of waiting for who knows how long back at his car. _Is it down this corridor or the other one? Apparently I don't remember as much as I thought I did…_

A spate of giggling and scuffing shoes distracted Alex.

"Hi, you look like you could use some help. Can I do anything for you?" Standing before Alex was a girl (or as she'd likely insist, a _young woman_), brunette hair framing her face in long waves, arms held akimbo on her short, navy skirt. Behind her, a cluster of five girls were snickering and sending lecherous glances his way. Even further behind them, others were wide-eyed at the girl's impudence. The girl's voice wrenched Alex's attention back to her. "I'm Felicity." She reached out her right hand to offer a handshake. "You're Alex Rider, right? I normally wouldn't introduce myself to anyone just like that, but if Ms. Bedfordshire let you in, you must be okay. So… would you like that help? Maybe I can show you to wherever you're going?"

Alex stared at her outstretched hand as if it were covered with poison. "No. I'm good."

"Oh, it wouldn't be any hassle at all! I insist, let me take you around school." Felicity's rejected hand reached out to lightly touch Alex's elbow. She stepped closer, other hand grasping the inside of his forearm. "I could show you the new additions to the school, and maybe you can show me your old classes, tell a few stories about your time at Brookland?" She smiled up at him, tugging on his arm. "Please?"

Alex pulled his arm out of Felicity's grasp, and stepped back. He _really_ didn't know how to handle teenage girls. "I'm saying no," Alex insisted.

A pause, then–

"What, you think that goody two shoes _Kathryn_ is better than me?" snarled Felicity, all semblance of innocent gone.

_Teenagers haven't improved at all since I left school, _lamented Alex, casting his eyes around in search of a way to quietly slip from the circle that now surrounded him. Regrettably, there wasn't one. He turned back to face the scowling girl.

"Listen, kid," growled Alex. Felicity bristled at the dig. "I don't know what you think Kathryn is to me, but whatever it is, you're dead wrong. Probably in more than one sense of the word. So, I suggest you get lost before I decide you're making yourself too much of a nuisance. Got it?"

Alex's threatening words had the opposite effect he desired. "Well excuse me, oh master of the criminal world," said Felicity, words dripping with sarcasm. "If Kathryn hangs around with you, you can't be more dangerous than a teddy bear– no, not even a bear. Maybe a soft, cuddly little sheep." She turned to the crowd around them and motioned back to Alex. "Aww, is it time for the poor gangster to be sheared?" A wave of laughs emanated from the clustered teens.

_Calm down, calm down. You've faced worse than this. Much worse. What was it that damn psychiatrist kept telling him to do? Right, happy thoughts, ha__ppy place. _The laughs turned to jeers at Alex's outward lack of response. _Be the bloody embodiment of happiness. I AM HAPPINESS. _His fists clenched when Felicity turned to him, victory in her eyes._ Oh, the hell with happy thoughts._ "Felicity, what was your surname? I don't think I caught it when you introduced yourself." A feral grin spread across his face as Felicity's smile slid off of hers. She realised she hadn't thought the whole 'taunt the dangerous gangster' idea through. As her idiocy dawned on her, she skirted towards the edge of the circle.

If anything, Alex's grin widened as the subtlety of her movement failed miserably. "Is someone scared of a little sheep? What's the name, Felicity?"

A voice in the crowd called out, "Blackwell, Felicity Blackwell!" She glared in the direction of the voice

"Such a lovely name, Ms. Blackwell. Now, because I am feeling… generous today, you will be let off with a warning. Should I ever hear you're making problems here, I may have to acquaint myself with your parents. How does that sound, Felicity?" She frantically nodded her head. "Good. I think we're done here."

"Hold it, Rider," a sharp, male voice rang out.

_What now? _groaned Alex. _At this rate, Kathryn will be the one waiting for me, not vice versa. _A weedy man stepped into the ring to accompany the vaguely familiar voice. However, it was the god-awful, pastel-colored, paisley tie on the otherwise commonplace suit that jogged Alex's memory. _Mr. Sanders is still here? Blimey, he should have been fired ages ago! Worst English teacher ever. _

Felicity ducked behind Sanders, eager to get out of the spotlight. Sanders turned to the teens, yelling, "Go home already, nothing to see here." Slowly, the students broke back into little cliques, busy with their friends, and seemingly out of hearing range. _Only_ _seemingly_, Alex was sure.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Sanders," said Alex, with forced joviality.

"Mr. Rider, I will not have you coming back to Brookland Comprehensive to corrupt our students. It was bad enough that you nearly destroyed the school on multiple occasions during your time here, but should you bring that upon Brookland again through whatever twisted mentoring you are doing, I assure you, you will regret it. These are good children who need to stay far away from negative influences, much like you did. Both Ms. Blackwell and Ms. Chase are exemplary students. In fact, they even know the difference between metonymy and synecdoche, something you might have mastered had you ever joined us for class."

Alex was dumbfounded that Sanders still remembered his inability to tell the difference between the two. "It is a shame I never got the hang of it; after all, I use it every single day of my life, and it would be oh so helpful if I could keep the two straight. Silly, silly me." Nearby students tittered; they thought the same thing, but no-one could to stand up to Mr. Sanders.

"I will have none of your cheek, Mr. Rider," said Sanders, his face turning a lovely shade of bright puce.

"It's a bit late for that, Mr. Sanders," informed Alex.

"You will leave, Rider!"

An anonymous student shouted, "Hey, you can't do that to Alex Rider!" Murmurs of agreement rippled among the teens.

"Yeah, he's _Alex Rider_. He's, like, nearly invincible, and stuff."

"Aren't you worried about revenge or something?"

Mr. Sanders attempted to take back control of the situation. "There's absolutely nothing that could-"

"What if your house mysteriously burns down?"

"Yeah, he seems more like a pyromaniac than anything."

"But then what about the incident with the flooded cafeteria?"

"Hel_lo_, he's a gang _boss_. As if he'd do anything himself."

"Then no more cranes-"

"-and storm the school with his troops-"

"-with big clouds of smoke billowing above London-"

"-just like James Bond! Only so much cuter-"

"-why he hasn't been arrested, yet-"

"-well, duh, the prime minister knows-"

"-not so much a sheep. Maybe a lion cub-"

"-push drugs to keep us all dumbed down-"

"-said anything about robot invasions, you twit-"

No one was paying much attention to Alex, too involved with their gossip and imaginations. With one swift, unobtrusive twist to check his surroundings, he slipped through the cracks of the group, escaped to a clear hallway, down the stairs, and out the door.

Kathryn was waiting by his car with another girl when Alex approached. They both waved when they recognised him.

"What took you so long?" asked Kathryn.

"Nothing much, just got caught up in a few things," Alex changed the subject. "Who's your friend?"

"Natalie, meet my Uncle Alex. Uncle Alex, Natalie."

"Nice to meet you, sir," Natalie politely greeted.

"Don't call me sir, it's much too stuffy. Uncle Alex works just fine," said Alex, glad for _some_ sanity to exist on Brookland property.

"Actually, I've got to go. Pleasure meeting you, Mr. Rider. Bye, Kathryn; talk to you later!"

With the departure of Natalie, Alex sighed and wearily got into the car. Kathryn noticed the fatigue her Uncle normally kept well hidden; something must have happened at school. Which meant bad news for her.

"I'm going to regret going to school tomorrow, aren't I?"

"Oh, be quiet, Katy."

* * *

Jason Chase, alias Snake, winced at the creak of the front door as he entered his house. It was late at night, and Kathryn should have been sleeping; hopefully, his wife was, too. Moonlight dappled the hall as he padded through the house, drawn towards a light in the kitchen. Snake peered around the door. As suspected, he saw a suit-clad figure at the kitchen table, leaning over a stack of manila folders and scrawling notes across the expanse of papers. Snake stood for a moment, savouring the sight of his trusted teammate so at ease. It had not been an easy road for K-Unit to get to their current level of trust.

"In case you were wondering, Jason, it's creepy to be stared at," remarked Alex, breaking the silence of the house. He lifted his eyes to meet Snake's, the pen clacking softly as he set it on the table.

"Sorry, sorry. Just enjoying the moment," Jason said, settling into a vacant chair. He ran an absent hand over his crew cut, trying not to peek at Alex's confidential files. Snake remembered when Eagle had tried months ago; a repeat of the incident would have been exceedingly stupid. "Katy's in bed?"

Alex nodded his head, "Yeah, and Sadie is holed up in your bedroom. Your wife made me promise to send you up as soon as I was done with you."

Snake raised his eyebrows, amused by the turn of phrase. "Done with me? What happened? I mean, thank you for taking Kathryn to the doctors, it really helped me and Sadie out, but I think we're even now. Or did something happen at the appointment?" Obviously it couldn't have been anything terrible; Cub-trouble either ended with a world saved yet again or blood raining from the sky. _Not that that's ever happened_, shuddered Snake. _At least, not yet.__ But from what his missions are like, it's not too far off the mark._

"Not the appointment." Alex changed tack. "Remember that time back when I was still in school and got into a spot of trouble, and you and Ben had to come bail me out?"

"How could I forget?" chortled Snake. "You nearly flooded the entire first floor of your school! The worst part was that no one seemed surprised about it. God, that was an eye opener!" Snake shook his head in disbelief. "Wait, what does that have to do with anything?"

"You wouldn't happen to remember the school, would you?" Alex looked at Snake expectantly.

"Umm... I remember rusted grey lockers. The Headmaster was pretty nice. I think its name started with a 'b.'"

"Why, yes! It does start with a 'b!' Good for you! You know what? Since you're doing so good, I'll give you a clue to the school's name. It rhymes with 'crookland.'" The colour drained from Snake's face. "Does Jason have a guess?"

Snake swallowed, the Eagle Incident still fresh in his mind. He sheepishly whispered, "Brookland Comprehensive?"

"Give the man a biscuit! Spot on, Jason. Spot. On." Alex soundlessly scooted his chair closer to Snake's. "Since I see you are sufficiently frightened, I will leave you with this one thought. Revenge from Alex Rider is never a pleasant experience. Just ask Andrew." He abruptly stood up, swept together his documents, and left (not that Snake could actually tell; the door never squeaked on Alex's way out).

Snake sat at the table, fingers drumming nervously against the wood. Finally, he came to a decision.

He was never going to ask Cub for a favour again. _Never._

_FIN  
_

* * *

_Author's Note: Flashback to that time I heard high school freshmen argue over who would seduce the hot, new student teacher first. *sigh* And thus, the story is finished. First off, thank you all so much for reading! If you've posted stories before, you probably can empathize with the butterflies in the stomach and the smile that refuses to leave when you see someone has added the story (or you) on alert, reviewed, or even just read it. I really appreciate all reviews and cannot convey that enough. __  
__Thanks again for your support, and leave me all of your ideas, comments, questions, criticisms, witticisms, and/or limericks!_

_**NOTE (2-19-11): **Various proofreading edits. Why did no one tell me I needed them? :(__  
_

_P.S. One review I must reply to:_ crossMyheartHope2Spy_- The fourth book is called _A Conspiracy of Kings_, and it's mostly from Sophos' POV__. His characterization is a bit off, but his growth, the resolution, and Gen's role were both fantastic._

_**Note (4-6-13):** Minor edits. And a plea to stop putting this story on story alert? I'm not going to add another chapter, or use another "chapter" to notify you guys about related stories... like The Eagle Incident! (Shameless plug.) It's flattering, but I feel bad because it's ultimately useless. Beyond that, thank you thank you THANK YOU ALL for continuing to review, favorite, and alert everything! It's a miracle that anyone's still reading and loving this story two years after its start._


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